Voldemort's Revenge
by Abused Wide Bellatris
Summary: Voldemort has finally escaped Limbo after spending a couple of eternities there. What will he do to those who killed him the first time around now that he's back? Find out! ...Currently Playing: 'Fifty Horny House-Elves'...
1. The Dark Lord Returns

_Over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over and over..._

**VOLDEMORT'S REVENGE**

_less uninteresting  
><em>

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><p><strong>The Dark Lord Returns<strong>

At last, he was free. Free of that godawful land of nothingness.

Lord Voldemort, the darkest wizard of all time, the most evil man in history, the most feared human being ever to turn himself halfway into a snake, laughed maniacally as he examined his pale, six-and-a-half-foot-tall, spidery-fingered, red-eyed, snake-faced, decidedly non-dead-baby-ish self again for the first time in over one hundred million billion years.

"I live again..." he murmured reverently. "I live again..."

"My Lord?" said one of the Death Eaters in his throne room. "Are you all right?"

"YES! SHUT UP!" Voldemort shouted at him, as loudly as he possibly could. The Death Eater's head exploded because the Dark Lord's voice was amplified about a hundred times by magic. The rest of the Death Eaters were a lot smarter than their comrade and did not ask Voldemort if he was all right.

"I must buy one of those watches that tells me the date as well as the time..." muttered Voldemort to himself. "BELLATRIX!" he called.

Bellatrix threw herself at his feet. "Master?"

"What is the date?"

"October 30, 1981, Master."

"A-HA!" Voldemort shrieked, and another Death Eater's head exploded. "WORMT- Oh. JUGSON!" Jugson was the Death Eater whose head had exploded earlier. "Travers!"

"My Lord!"

Finally, a living Death Eater. "Find Peter Pettigrew and bring him to me! Be sure to physically abuse him in every way possible, and make a lot of rat references!"

"At once, My Lord!"

"Selywn! Get Snape in here immediately, and make sure he knows I am very displeased with him for reasons I am not going to reveal to anyone, because if I did it would make him feel less anxious about not knowing what he has done wrong!"

"Yes, My Lord!"

"Mulciber! Get me someone I can torture by pulling their eyes out through their nose!"

"Right away, My Lord!"

Voldemort sat down in his extremely evil-looking, spiky black throne, feeling better than he had in just over a hundred million billion years.

Limbo really, really sucked. Like, industrial-strength suck. A maelstrom of suck. So much suck that you would not only drown in it, your soul would remain trapped in the suck because there was no place without suck. He had spent most of those hundred million billion years floating through Limbo as an ugly, ruined, mutated, mutilated dead baby, and there was absolutely nothing to do when you were stuck in the useless body of a dead baby. Needless to say, Voldemort had gone completely insane. More completely insane than he had been when he died, anyway, which was saying something.

But now he was back. Back and still completely insane.

Things were looking up, Voldemort thought as Bellatrix lounged on the floor beside his throne, two unfortunate Death Eater grunts cleaned up Jugson's remains with Muggle mops while Rowle whipped them and called them lazy bags of dragon crap, and Mulciber brought him a very annoying Muggle in a cheap suit who looked like he was probably an encyclopedia salesman.

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><p><em>This is something that I will update in between updates of my other stories. If anyone has any suggestions for chapters (you'll get the general idea of how it works once I post one or two actual chapters, which I'll do over the next few days), tell me and I'll give you credit for coming up with it if it's really original. Oh, yeah, and this is not betaed, nor will it ever be. However, if I have made a mistake, feel free to point it out.<em>


	2. The Potter Chainsaw Massacre

_...__and over, and over, and over, and over..._**  
><strong>

**VOLDEMORT'S REVENGE  
><strong>

**01: The Potter Chainsaw Massacre**

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><p>"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!"<p>

There was a sudden roaring sound as Voldemort attacked James.

"HOLD THIS OFF, YOU DICK!" he shrieked.

James didn't stand a chance against Voldemort's chainsaw. Voldemort got a lot of blood in his eyes, but it was completely worth it to watch the two pieces of the man who had sired his greatest enemy fall onto opposite sides of the carpet. Besides, his eyes were already blood-red, so it was like spitting in the Atlantic Ocean.

This time, when he climbed the stairs and got to the locked door of the nursery, he didn't open it with his wand. Instead, he cut a big hole in it, stuck his head in, yelled "HERE'S TOMMY!" and reached in so he could open the door from the inside. And then he just charged forward with the chainsaw held out in front of him and cut through all the boxes that were piled up in his way, laughing like a maniac.

Predictably, Lily Evans tried to place herself between her son and the spinning teeth of death. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" she cried.

"OH, NO!" Voldemort howled, drawing himself up to his full height and revving his chainsaw a couple of times for the sound effect. "I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE UP TO! DON'T THINK YOU'RE GOING TO PULL THAT ONE ON ME AGAIN!"

He kicked her very hard in the shin and whacked her on the head with the not-toothy end of the chainsaw. She crumpled onto some cut-up boxes, unconscious.

"YOU!" The Dark Lord pointed his chainsaw, one-handed, at Harry Potter's crib. "YOU MADE ME A DEAD BABY FOR A HUNDRED MILLION BILLION YEARS, YOU LITTLE BRAT! I'M GOING TO ENJOY THIS IMMENSELY!"

It only took him about eight seconds to saw the crib and Harry Potter in half, but oh, god, it felt so good. Voldemort also went the extra mile and cut the dead Harry Potter pieces up a few more times, just because. Then he left a sticky note on Lily's forehead informing her that all of this was Snape's fault.

Peter Pettigrew—Wormtail—was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Is it... _done_, M-Master?" Wormtail stammered, fidgeting nervously.

After thinking about it, and weighing the pros and cons, Voldemort sawed Wormtail in half as well.

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><p><em>This is the new Voldemort.<em>

_This is how I fuck the sky._


	3. The Fast and the Animagus

_...__and over, and over, and over, and over..._**  
><strong>

**VOLDEMORT'S REVENGE**

**02: The Fast and the Animagus**

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><p>Sirius Black raced toward Godric's Hollow on his motorbike. He swerved in and out of traffic, going about eighty million times the speed limit.<p>

For some reason, he couldn't Apparate tonight. Peter must have put a spell on him that prevented him from doing so. He couldn't use portkeys, either (he had tried), and he couldn't use the Floo. His motorbike wouldn't even fly. It was acting like a regular Muggle motorbike.

If he didn't know any better, Sirius would have thought someone was trying to make him ride his motorbike instead of using another means of travel.

Suddenly, Sirius heard a deafeningly loud beep behind him. It startled him so much he almost fell off his motorbike. There was a thunderous crash; the ground shook; all the cars around him popped off the asphalt about half an inch.

When he got a chance, he looked in his mirror.

Behind him, there was a huge tractor-trailer rig billowing clouds of black smoke out its twin exhaust pipes, plowing through the cars ahead of it like Albus Dumbledore through everything between himself and a bag of lemon drops.

Lord Voldemort leaned out of the driver's side window, not paying attention to anything he drove over as he made childish faces at Sirius. In fact, he was just turning the wheel from side to side so that the truck crushed everything in its path. Sirius shrieked and drove faster, even as the magically-enhanced truck, which had a big angry snake (_SLYTHERINS!_) face painted on the front grill, started catching up to him.

"COME TO DADDY!" Voldemort cackled into the truck's PA system. If he had had hair, which he did not, because he was bald and snake-like, it would have been whipping wildly in the wind. He beeped the horn a few more times, causing the windows on most of the nearby cars to explode.

"WHAT-THE-FUCK!" screamed Sirius. Hellstorms of _Avada Kedavras_ he could take, but Lord Voldemort driving on a Muggle highway in a tractor-trailer rig was just - _what the fuck?_

Then Voldemort took very careful aim and threw a doggy chewtoy at him. It hit him right in the face with a _squeak_, and he fell off his motorbike and was promptly run over by a bus full of satanic nuns.

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><p><em>I FOOOOUND A REEEEASON FOR MEEEEEEE... TO CHAAAANGE WHO I UUUUSED TO BEEEEEE... A REEEEEASON TO STAAAART OVER NEEEEEW... AND THE REEEEEASON IIIIIIISSSS YOOOOUUUUU...<br>_


	4. Over the River

_...__and over, and over, and over, and over..._**  
><strong>

**VOLDEMORT'S REVENGE**

**03: Over the River  
><strong>

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><p>Remus Lupin woke up in a very cramped, tight space that was not a vagina. His head hurt a lot and his wand (the one he cast spells with) was missing.<p>

"What the hell!" he shouted. "Sirius, what did you do!"

Then he remembered that all of his best friends were dead and he began crying pathetically. He was a sad panda, I mean werewolf.

After about 30 hours of crying and blaming himself and trying to find his straight razor so he could cut his wrists nonfatally, Remus decided to figure out what the hell was going on. He looked around and discovered that he was scrunched up inside of a cylindrical object about the size of a large barrel. Furthermore, it was wet inside, and not just from all the limpid tears he'd cried. And there was a roaring sound all round him. And it felt like he was moving up and down randomly.

"Hello, Remus Lupin," said a high, cold voice, and Remus started and smacked his head on the side of the barrel.

"Voldemort!" the werewolf yelled.

"DON'T SAY THE DARK LORD'S NAME!" Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked.

"Shut up, Bella! I'm recording!"

"Sorry, Master."

Voldemort cleared his throat loudly and for a long time. "This is a recording," he informed Remus pointlessly. "Anyway... Hello, Remus Lupin. I bet you were expecting me to say 'I want to play a game' after that. Weren't you? You were, you filthy self-loathing halftrack."

Remus started trying to punch the side of the barrel out. so he could escape.

"Don't bother trying to escape by punching the side of the barrel out, which I'm sure you're doing now," the recording of the Dark Lord said. "I reinforced it with spells I found in Lucius Malfoy's four hundred and twenty seven volume set of encyclopedias."

"Lucius Malfoy sells encyclopedias?" Remus stopped for a second to process this stupidity.

"Yes," said the recording. "Anyway, for the crime of pissing me off, I hereby sentence you to die by going over a waterfall in a wooden barrel that will explode violently upon hitting the surface of the water below, killing you and about fifty thousand Muggles because in addition to your emo, ugly, moustached self, it's also loaded with a radioactive material suitable for building nuclear bombs. I suggest your life flash before your eyes now. The barrel will go over the waterfall when this elevator music ends."

As Remus listened to the horrifically evil elevator song play, he suddenly thought about how if he had survived, he would have liked to marry a woman with pink hair, and have a son with her, and then get killed by Antonin Dolohov in a really anticlimactic and stupid moment, leaving his son as an orphan who would grow up to have aquamarine hair.

Then he found his straight razor and cut himself a lot. Nonfatally.

When the music ended and the barrel went over the edge of the waterfall, Remus prepared to die by cutting himself some more.

But, miraculously, the barrel didn't explode because the guy who wired it was named Roland Crabbe, and Roland Crabbe was very, very, very stupid.

So the barrel just floated on down the river.

Unfortunately, Remus died anyway because he cut himself too much in celebration.

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><p><em>I wrote this in, like, five minutes. It just came to me. I wanted to do something that didn't involve silver. That would be too ironic, and only hipsters are ironic.<br>_


	5. Screw Fate

_...__and over, and over, and over, and over..._**  
><strong>

**VOLDEMORT'S REVENGE**

**04: Screw Fate**

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><p>Sybill Trelawney had a most unfortunate accident one day. Well... It wasn't an accident. It was murder. By Voldemort. And it wasn't <em>that<em> unfortunate. Nobody really liked her except the brainless idiots anyway. Well, okay. It was kind of unfortunate. She was like a litmus test for mild retardation. But you get my point, right? Nobody really cared all that much except Dumbledore.

It was her first year as Hogwarts' Divination Professor. She was in the middle of teaching a class of seventh year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs when one boy with blond hair that had a texture like candyfloss raised his hand. He kept it up until she called on him.

"I've just had a premonition," said Oddment Lovegood, Xenophilius Lovegood's younger brother. "Well, actually it was about fifteen minutes ago, when I raised my hand, but I suppose that's only if you believe in linear time. My premonition is that you're going to die."

"Well, it's obvious that you don't have the Sight," Trelawney huffed indignantly.

Lord Voldemort suddenly flew up through the trap door, banging it open with his bald, snakelike head, and knocked over some crystal balls and scented candles and things of that nature when he landed. The Divination professor and class of thirty or so students stared at him, open-mouthed.

"YOU." Voldemort pointed at Trelawney, frothing at the mouth. "YOU made that stupid prophecy that got me killed the first time, you hag!"

"I cannot control the whims of the fates," said Trelawney in a mysterious voice. "They will speak through me when they-"

"Oh, no they won't! You're never going to make another prophecy again because I'm going to throw you off the Astronomy Tower!" Voldemort assured her.

"...You can't do that!" Trelawney protested.

"WHY NOT?"

"The fates won't allow it!" explained Trelawney, her eyes widening madly. "Fate commands that I be allowed to li-"

Voldemort seized a crystal ball off the desk of a student (who fainted) and threw it at Trelawney. It hit her in the head with a very loud _BAP_ sound and she fell down through the trap door. He jumped through after her.

The Hogwarts population was then treated to the nasty shock of having Lord Voldemort run past them with Sybill Trelawney thrown over his shoulder, cackling madly and yelling "SCREW FATE!". Unfortunately for Trelawney, Dumbledore was on a tour of his favorite lemon drop factory at the time, so he couldn't appear out of nowhere and say 'RELEASE HER, TOM!'. Not that it would have done much good anyway if he had.

The mostly-fraudulent Seer woke up right as he opened the door of the tower and started talking in a low, harsh voice:

"_IT WILL BE, AND THERE IT WILL BE AGAIN, AND -_"

"NO, IT WILL NOT!" Voldemort hurled her off the tower. She hit the ground and exploded into a mess of gore before she ever finished her prophecy. Instead of walking away, Voldemort also jumped off the tower, and he flew away into the sunset like a huge, psycho[pathic][tic] bat with red eyes.

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><p><em>This chapter is brought to you by... <strong>Glue. It's good for your nostrils.<strong>  
><em>


	6. Lord Brushemwell

_...__and over, and over, and over, and over..._**  
><strong>

**VOLDEMORT'S REVENGE  
><strong>

**06: Lord Brushemwell**

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><p>Voldemort walked into the lobby of the ordinary-looking Muggle building.<p>

"Excuse me," he said to the ordinary-looking Muggle secretary, "I'd like to get my teeth cleaned."

The ordinary-looking Muggle secretary didn't burst out screaming and faint dead away like most non-Death Eater people did when Voldemort approached and spoke to them because Voldemort had very cleverly disguised himself as a an ordinary-looking Muggle man called Tom Riddle.

Yes. He made himself look like his father. Which clearly indicates some psychological issues that ought to be addressed... but then again being a Dark Lord, killing people at random, torturing innocents for fun, murdering babies with chainsaws, and other such things are also considered indicators of psychological issues.

Anyway, the ordinary-looking Muggle secretary asked him, "Do you have an appointment?"

To this, Voldemort replied, "No I do not."

The ordinary-looking Muggle secretary took out an ordinary-looking Muggle calendar book, and 'Superiorus Serpentus' made an appointment for one week's time. A week later, he came back to the dentist's office and got his teeth cleaned. Then, after he had enjoyed the fresh, minty taste in his mouth for a moment, he turned into the bald, snakelike Voldemort and tortured the ordinary-looking Muggle dentist with the Cruciatus Curse until the man told him where to find the Grangers.

The Grangers lived in an ordinary-looking Muggle house in an ordinary-looking Muggle neighborhood. Voldemort Apparated into the ordinary-looking Muggle house with the entire contents of the dentist's office and proceeded to do a lot of horrible things using a lot of ordinary-looking Muggle dentistry tools.

Never had there been so much violence inflicted with mouth mirrors and periodontal curettes in such a short length of time.

Before he left, he shot the Dark Mark into the air to show everyone that he'd been there. The snake was replaced by a piece of dental floss. The Ministry erroneously thought it was a new Dark Lord's Dark Mark and told everyone to be on the lookout for Lord Brushemwell.

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><p><em>Have any of you idiots ever read <em>Terry Boot and the Masochist's Boulder_?_ _If you haven't, and you haven't, go read it. It's the funniest shit ever. The only reviews are from me and a bunch of people who got mad about the cripple jokes. Isn't that depressing? Yeah, it is. Anyway, Lord Pullapart is awesome. Voldemort has nothing on him. JKR should have had him kill off Voldemort and be the main villain in DH. It's a fucking talking polar bear, man. He be Lord Pullapart._


	7. Fifty Horny House Elves

_...and over, and over, and over, and over..._

**VOLDEMORT'S REVENGE**

**07: Fifty Horny House-Elves**

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><p>Lucius Malfoy, now Lord of the House of Malfoy thanks to Abraxas dying of AIDS, I mean VD, I mean herpes, I mean Dragon Pox, yeah that one, Dragon Pox, certainly not Wizard AIDS from having sex with one or ten too many shemale prostitutes in Thailand, I mean he fell down the stairs and broke all his toes<p>

Lucius Malfoy, now Lord of the House of Malfoy due to circumstances shrouded in mystery but officially attributed to a cheap brothel in Th

officially attributed to Dragon Pox, sat in his favorite, most expensive, showiest, peacock-patterned armchair (which had actual peacock feathers sticking up out of the top) in his immense drawing room and sipped hair gel

sat in his immense drawing room and sipped a glass of brandy that cost over nine thousand galleons per bottle. He was on top of the world. Not only was he married with a son, but his wife had no idea about his many, many trysts with (biologically female) whores in Thailand and on top of that he was also the Dark Lord's most favored Death Eater - even more favored than Bellatrix. It was probably because he was sexier than anyone else on the planet, he thought as he sipped his glass of hair gel I mean brandy and looked at his sexy, sexy reflection in one of the hundreds of mirrors his ancestors had installed all over Malfoy Manor.

Yes, life was good.

Suddenly, his house-elf Dobby appeared in front of him.

"What do you mean by interrupting my contemplation of my sexiness, elf?" Lucius demanded.

"Dobby has a letter for Master Malfoy," the thing replied. "Dobby is getting it from the Dark Lord, sir."

Lucius snatched the letter from Dobby and whacked the elf with his snake-headed pimp cane for disturbing him. Then he ordered Dobby to go iron his hands for the next hour and felt better.

"I wonder what it could be," he mused as he opened the heavy, official-looking parchment envelope with the Dark Mark seal on it.

It started singing as soon as he pulled it out. It sang joyously and mechanically and gave one a sense that one lived in a ticky-tacky house in the American suburbs and was waiting for an encyclopedia salesman to show up. It was brightly coloured and obnoxious and made Lucius want to kill something. It was a singing Muggle greeting card.

"What the hell?" said Lucius.

Then he felt the characteristic jerk-behind-the-navel feeling of a Portkey being activated. For a few moments, he spun through hyperspace, or whatever it is you go into when you travel by Portkey, and then he landed on and bruised his (perfect) ass.

He had time to register that he was on some kind of conveyor belt in the middle of nowhere, and then a number of sprayers came down from the ceiling and started shooting a foul-smelling substance all over him as he passed under them at high-speed. This continued for a significant amount of time, and Lucius was too busy screaming like a little girl to think of Disapparating.

The conveyor belt finally deposited Lucius's drenched, stinking-but-still-sexy form in some kind of dungeon room. A door closed over the exit, locking him in, but Lucius didn't care because he was too busy being horrified by the state of his hellaciously expensive clothes.

"I'll ruin you for this!" he shrieked. "Whoever you are!"

Lights went on. Bright lights. Lucius found that the room he was in was actually the center of an amphitheatre. All the seats were filled with Death Eaters.

"My friends," said the voice of Lord Voldemort, coming from somewhere above, "I present to you your entertainment for tonight... Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, a traitor, dandy, and encyclopedia salesman."

"What? I don't sell encyclopedias!" cried Lucius as the crowd of Death Eaters cheered. He tried to Disapparate and failed. "Walden! Get me out of here!"

MacNair threw some popcorn at him. It hit him in his sexy head.

"And in the other corner," Voldemort continued as a door opposite Lucius slid open, revealing a number of dinner-plate-sized eyes, "are fifty house-elves who have not had a good lay in several months."

Sure enough, fifty horny house-elves poured into the arena. Lucius shrieked and tried unsuccessfully to climb up the wall as they closed in on him. They started involuntarily humping the air when the stench coming off Lucius hit them.

"I should take a moment to point out that Lucius is currently covered in house-elf pheromones."

Lucius Malfoy's screams that night were terrible indeed.

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><p>it's ironic because he's mean to dobby shut up<p> 


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